A note on grief, the stories we tell about things, and why MYŌTH is beginning again.
This year started with an ending I wasn't prepared for. My father died on his birthday in January.
Since then I have been doing what grief asks of you: obsessing. Turning the whole thing over and over in the dark. Was he happy with it all? What makes a good life? What makes a good death? What happens after? The questions multiplied until they collapsed under their own weight and became just two punctuated points of time, with a whole lot of living-and-waiting in between.
Because when you sit with it long enough, you realize: it was never really about the stuff. Not his stuff, not mine, not any of it. We all feel that pull toward the thing we think we need… some identity-defining object or space that will finally make us feel whole. And if we're lucky enough to get it, that hole is often still there. Or a new one appears in its place.
So that thing you think you need? You probably don't. I know… not a great opening from a company that sells things.
But here's what I actually believe: the ritual matters more than the object. The act of pausing, of attending to yourself with intention — that's where something real happens. The things we make at MYŌTH are vessels. An invitation to stop. A way of saying: this moment is yours, and you are worth returning to.
On cycles, and what they ask of us
Every living system moves in cycles. Seasons. Breath. The way a forest regenerates after fire, more diverse and resilient than what was there before. The mycorrhizal networks under our feet don't disappear in winter — they go quiet. They wait. They share resources across root systems in the dark, sustaining what cannot yet be seen.
Grief has a way of reframing things. What looks like a death is often a dormancy — a composting, the slow invisible work that precedes growth.
MYŌTH has been in its own kind of cycle. Back in 2022, I had to step back. Lo didn't frame that as an ending — she continued on, steadily, generously, for four years, while taking care of her family and her interior design practice alongside it, until she decided she needed to focus on things closer to home. So here we are: a new beginning. Led by my hand this time, with Lo contributing occasionally as our spatial consultant. The philosophy is unchanged: daily care as ritual, botanics as medicine, the body as a place worth returning to.
Something to take with you
I'm a holistic nutritionist as well as the person who formulates everything you find here. The intersection of what we put on our skin and what we put in our bodies is where I live intellectually — and it's something I want to write about far more. So here's a small offering, not a product. Just a recipe I've often made for myself through this strange year.
FROM THE MYŌTH KITCHEN · A GROUNDING RITUAL
Reishi & Ashwagandha Golden Milk
Known as the Queen of Mushrooms, reishi is beautifully adaptogenic — it works with your nervous system rather than overriding it, supporting cortisol regulation and immune resilience over time. It's the same reason reishi appears in several MYŌTH formulations: it belongs on the body and in it. Ashwagandha works alongside it here — studied for its role in reducing cortisol and supporting what I think of as the adrenal-skin connection: chronically elevated cortisol degrades your skin barrier, delays wound healing, and accelerates collagen breakdown.
Warm, slightly bitter, deeply grounding. Best made slowly and drunk without your phone.
- ¼ cup - Full-fat coconut milk or fresh raw milk
- ¾ cup - Filtered hot water
- ½ tsp - Reishi mushroom powder
- ¼ tsp - Ashwagandha root powder
- ½ tsp - Turmeric powder
- A pinch of ground cardamom
- A pinch of freshly cracked black pepper
- 1–2 tsp - Raw honey or maple syrup, to taste
- ¼ tsp - Pure vanilla extract
- 1 scoop of Grass-fed beef or marine collagen
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- Heat your filtered water in a pot until it simmers.
- Whisk in the reishi, ashwagandha, turmeric, cardamom, and pepper and allow them to simmer together for about three minutes. Reishi is earthy and bitter — the cardamom and turmeric soften it. The black pepper activates curcumin absorption significantly; it's not optional.
- Slowly add your milk while stirring over low heat for a minute longer. Don't let it boil.
- Remove from heat. Add vanilla and sweeten gently — less than you think. Pour into something you like to hold.
- Drink it somewhere quiet. Give yourself five minutes of nothing else. That's the whole point.
A note: if you're on thyroid medication or immunosuppressants, please check with your practitioner before using ashwagandha regularly. Start with a smaller amount if adaptogens are new to you.
For the readers who made it here
If you read all the way to this line (through the grief and the cycles and the golden milk) I want you to know that MYŌTH is not relaunching as a louder, shinier version of itself. It's still quiet, considered, and built around a single conviction: that coming back to the body is a way of coming back to yourself — and that in that stillness, if you're paying attention, you find something larger than the noise.
We've restocked our small-batch formulas on July 1st. The same rituals, the same glass vessels, the same refillery model, the same commitment to plants and fungi that actually do something — with slightly updated formulas to keep pace with the ever-changing science of skincare. If you've been waiting: we're back.
And because you read all of this — here's something we won't offer anywhere else:
FOR ATTENTIVE READERS · ONE USE ONLY
ĀRABEGINS
15% off your first order after relaunch.
Valid July 2026 only. Enter at checkout.
Not combinable with other offers.
Two punctuated points of time, with a whole lot of living in between.
Make the middle worth something.
Teenna
Founder, formulator + holistic nutritionist
